


Across the Hall

by writingramblr



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Romance, Because of Reasons, Dark, Dark Past, Domestic, F/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Neighbors, Older Man/Younger Woman, ooc ness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-17
Updated: 2014-07-08
Packaged: 2018-02-05 00:09:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 12,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1798348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingramblr/pseuds/writingramblr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sansa isn't sure what to believe about her neighbor who lives across the hall. Stories abound, some say he killed a man for money, others say for love, still more say just for revenge.</p><p>But how dangerous could he be really?</p><p>When Sansa accidentally receives a letter meant for him, she's about to find out the truth about Petyr Baelish.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [moonlightof1982](https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonlightof1982/gifts).



> this was just something that popped into my head, because really, when is there too much Sansa/Petyr? I'm not sure how clean it will remain, so i've aimed high with the rating.

The stack of mail inside Sansa's mailbox seemed higher than usual.

She didn't think a thing of it, until she'd returned to her apartment and actually sifted through the envelopes. She'd only lived in the apartment complex for a few weeks, having finished up her college courses for the semester; she was looking forward to relaxing over the summer. Thanks to high grades and record attendance, she’d been able to use a couple scholarships and avoid a pile of student loan debt. Even if she'd had any, she knew her family would've helped her.

But she was glad she hadn't needed to ask them. She hated asking them for help. Considering they'd wanted to her to get married first and skip school until later, she wasn't inclined to go for them with any problems.

After having said " _Screw that_ " to their plans for her, she'd moved out and almost run away with her younger sister and older brother. Eventually they'd wised up, but Sansa had gotten a taste of freedom, and not looked back since. High school had been torture, and college had been her haven.

Armed with a degree in teaching, English literature and history; she was ready to take a break before heading into the classroom again, to be on the other side of the desk.

***

Sansa was halfway through tossing the whole bunch into the trash, all junk, not a single bill, when she noticed the address on the last one.

It wasn't her name.

It wasn't any misspelling of her name.

Written across the paper in dark red ink was the name Petyr Baelish, and the address that followed was that of her neighbor, across the hallway from her.

Sansa gulped. All the rumors and whispers about him coming to the forefront of her mind. Killer, thief, liar, and maybe even _traitor_. But she couldn't believe a thing until she'd spoken to him. It wouldn't be right. She straightened up and ran a hand through her hair, ensuring it was presentable. Though she felt convinced she was nervous because of his reputation, deep down perhaps she knew better. She'd seen him before, glimpses in the hallway when they'd return home around the same time, a rare occurrence. Or when they'd both pick up their mail, something that happened even less often.

She walked out her front door and took the few steps to his, stopping short of standing on his stoop. She raised a suddenly shaky hand and knocked. Her heartbeat thundered in her chest as she waited. She didn't even know if he was home, much less how he'd answer the door.

***

Petyr Baelish was not the sort of man who expected visitors.

He didn't have a job that required house calls, or one that endeared many people to him. His hand tightened on the pearl shell handled knife that he always kept at his side. It was serrated and sharper than a comedian’s wit. There was a tiny hook at the end which made it twice as deadly as a normal switchblade. He didn't bother to put anything more on; he was comfortable as could be in lounge pants and a loose Hawaiian shirt. He knew he might look ridiculous, but people's opinion about him mattered little. His employer’s opinion mattered more.

He was almost prepared to bet it was someone sent by them at his door.

But he wasn't a betting man.

With practiced ease, he approached the door and looked through the peephole. What he saw was a bit of a shock. A petite auburn haired girl stood looking expectantly at his door. As if she could see him, a tentative smile spread over her face. She was beautiful. She had blue eyes and slightly pink lips. Petyr was surprised at himself, to feel a small bit of attraction to her. Even if the Company had sent her, she wouldn't be a big threat.

Unless a large gun was waiting for him just out of sight.

He cleared his throat, and called out,

"Can I help you?"

The sarcastic bite to his voice did not go unnoticed, and he saw the girl visibly shrink away from the door, before a timid voice replied,

"Yes, ah, I just brought you something. I accidentally got a bit of your mail. It looked important, so I thought I better bring it to you myself."

Petyr's grey eyebrows shot upwards,

"Is that so?"

The girl nodded, and held up a rectangular envelope on which he recognized the scrawl of Varys, his second hand man inside the Company, and he felt his shoulders relax.

"Of course, please, come in." Swiftly undoing the many locks and chains to his door, he yanked it open to allow her entrance.

He didn't believe her story for a minut _e_. He had a suspicion she was actually one of Varys' little birds. She looked as delicate as a bird made human. Like something out of a Greek myth.

Up close her hair looked more like flames caressing her face and shoulders.

“Please, sit. Can I get you something to drink…?”

He paused, waiting for her to answer with her name, and he was disappointed.

Quite a well trained bird it seemed. Or easily distracted.


	2. Chapter 2

Sansa was sure her eyes had gone wide as saucers when the door opened. She’d not expected her neighbor to be home, much less to be friendly enough to invite her in for a drink. He’d also looked much more casual than she’d remembered. Every other encounter they’d had, he’d always been dressed in a perfectly pressed suit without a tie. His hair would be styled and shaped in a flattering manner, and he’d either have a small mustache, or be clean shaven.

That evening, in his home, his hair was mussed, and his face held the shadow of the day’s growth. Sansa would never have admitted it, but he was distractingly more handsome without such order and primness.

Not that she was in the habit of ogling her neighbors, especially mysterious older men neighbors. Of which she had one.

Back to the matter at hand, what to ask for to drink. She didn’t know if she should be bold and ask for something alcoholic, or just keep it light and ask for water. She’d seen the small wooden cabinet that sat just to the left of the patio door, and then quickly returned her gaze to her generous host.

In the end, her mind decided for her.

“Just some water please.”

He might have smiled, whether from amusement at her lame choice, or from something else he was thinking of, but Sansa blushed all the same.

“Very well.” His smooth voice seemed to tickle her ears as he vanished into his small kitchen, and she almost followed him, before remembering he’d told her to sit. So she did, still clutching the small envelop in her hands. She hoped she wasn’t wrinkling it, and she also wondered why he didn’t seem to mind her sticking around.

“So, ah, how do you like the neighborhood?”

She managed to find something to say besides a comment on the weather, (too cliché), and she fought the urge to blush again as she heard his deep voice chuckle,

“It’s quite fair. So far I haven’t really met anyone of interest. Until today.”

He reappeared with a glass of plain water, no ice, and she smiled gratefully. She’d not mentioned it, but somehow he’d known just how she wanted it.

Then again, perhaps she was just imagining things.

What had he said? She’d gotten distracted by his face again, and the way his silver grey hair framed his forehead and the strange hypnotizing manner of his green eyes.

“Sorry?”

He licked his lips and looked away from her, a smile playing about the corners of his mouth,

“I just said I’ve not met anyone, really, until you. So tell me your story.”

Sansa shrugged, and shifted in her seat, fingers tapping the envelop and knees knocking together,

“Well I’m afraid it’s pretty boring. I’m finished with my studies, going to start teaching high school in the fall. So this summer is my last hurrah before my real life starts, I suppose.”

He still looked amused, as if every word that left her mouth was entertaining. Perhaps it was. She’d never really been much of a conversationalist. She’d always left that up to her younger sister.

“Forgive my manners. Petyr Baelish, at your service. But of course, you already knew that.”

He nodded to the mail still in her grip, and she blinked in astonishment at him,

“Ohmygosh! I totally lost my mind. I’m Sansa. Sansa Stark. Here, I’ve held it captive long enough.” A nervous giggle escaped her mouth, and she handed the letter to him, but instead of taking it and moving away, Petyr slipped it from her hand and then took hold of her hand, bringing it to his mouth.

A brief kiss was placed on her fingers, and Sansa knew she was blushing again. He wasn’t that old, but the move spoke of another time and age, and she _liked_ it immensely.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. I wonder if all my neighbors would be as welcoming as you, I know they speak of me often.”

Sansa was quick to shake her head,

“I’m sure they’d understand it’s all nonsense if they could meet you. I mean, you’re no killer.”

Her eyes went wide again and she clapped her free hand to her mouth.

“Ohmygosh. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been so rude.”

Petyr let her hand go, and shrugged,

“It’s quite alright. Gossip forms as fast as moss on a dead tree. Besides, you would be right not to trust me. I’m a dangerous man. Perhaps not for the precise reasons the world thinks.”

Sansa felt a slight shiver of fear slip down her spine at his brief admission, but she couldn’t deny it made her feel rather excited as well as afraid. Her pulse had never slowed down, from the moment the door had opened to when she’d sat down across from him.

She watched in silence as he opened the letter, and scanned it briefly. She took the opportunity to ogle him freely, and she desperately wished for him to say something about how they should get to know each other better. How she needed to uncover the truth, to show the world he had no dark side.

But what if he did?

What if she didn’t care?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omg thank you all for your kind words, but i swear this story isn't really as deep and plotty as you think, but i'm glad you're enjoying it!  
> i just tend to write backstory even when its PWP...sigh.


	3. Chapter 3

Petyr used every bit of his focus to concentrate on reading Varys’ missive, and ignore the perfectly delectable young woman who sat across from him. He’d thought of her as a girl at first, and for all intents and purposes, she still was, at least in comparison to him. But when he’d asked her if she wanted a drink, he’d caught the look she’d thrown his liquor cabinet, and seen the conflict on her face. It had been fascinating to watch.

She’d given into her basic manners, and refused what she’d really wanted. Well, he liked to pretend that. He briefly fantasized that she’d considered alcohol because his presence was intimidating. Certainly it was, he knew by experience, but at least she wasn’t admitting it.

No matter, the simple fact was it proved she was more than old enough for his pursuit. He’d had slight doubts about how she would receive it if he offered, but when he saw her reaction to his kiss to her hand, he knew.

Her blue eyes had turned from the shade of the sea in the morning to dark cobalt. She wanted him. He had no misconceptions about his appearance. He’d been called handsome by his admirers, and told he had a face like a rat by his enemies.

He wasn’t someone who racked up names and notches on his bedpost, but he enjoyed himself with the occasional one nighter.

However, this girl, this woman, Sansa, was not something to be used up and tossed out with the mornings garbage.

He had a sneaking feeling there would be hell to pay from family, high ranking and dangerous family, if something happened to her. Her last name stirred something in his memory, and he endeavored to discover precisely who she was before progressing any further than sharing a drink or meal with her.

He folded up Varys’ letter, and set it aside. He’d read it in earnest later, but for now, he wanted to learn more about the flame haired girl.

She wasn’t one of Varys’ birds, but she was still inherently fascinating to him.

***

“Besides teaching, what do you plan to do with yourself?”

He watched the girl as she thought over his question, chewing it in her mind, and fought every instinct to kiss the pink lips of hers as she nibbled on them before speaking,

“I’m not sure really. I love to learn, and I love to share what I know with children. So outside of my work, I feel like I won’t be doing much, unless you count sleeping and grading homework as something?”

She laughed airily and he decided he wanted to make her make that sound as much as possible.

‘Oh the things I could teach you sweetling,’ he thought to himself, before replying aloud,

“I understand it can be a challenging career. You say you love learning, does that mean you also learn quicker than most?”

Sansa shrugged, before licking her lips and continuing,

“I suppose you could say that. I don’t mean to brag,” At this, a lovely hint of a blush returned to her cheeks, “But I was head of my class, well, all of them. So I suppose they say ‘those who can’t do-teach.’ But in my case, I could do anything probably, but I’m not sure I’d have the guts to. So you could say I took the easy route.”

Petyr shook his head slowly,

“Don’t be afraid to be confident. That’s not bragging. And what you said, that’s not quite true. Teaching is an admirable profession. It is not the career of a coward. Don’t think that about yourself.” He reached a hand over to place it on her knee, meant as a gesture of comfort, but also a selfish move, because it meant he could touch her, no matter how innocently. Her eyes immediately focused on his hand, and he twitched his fingers just so, and her eyes followed the movement.

He fought the urge to grin in triumph. She _did_ want him. She was probably wound tight as a spring. A girl, or woman, like her, soon to be a teacher, someone who had as many visitors as he, was likely a fresh flower waiting to be plucked, and how he thirsted after her.

He suddenly stood, and she shrank back, almost unconsciously,

“I’m sorry to have to say it, but I must be attending to my business. Thank you for bringing me this letter.”

She rose swiftly, and glanced with a worried look to her at the letter,

“I hope it’s nothing serious…”

Petyr shook his head,

“Nothing life or death, but business is business. Can’t let it lie too long. It was a pleasure to talk with you, I hope we can do it again sometime, perhaps over dinner?”

Sansa nodded, and then smiled beautifully at him,

“Oh yes. I’d like that.”

“If you need anything, you know where I live.”

He finished smoothly, as he escorted her to his door, his hand falling automatically to her lower back, just barely grazing the fabric of her shirt.

“Thank you. I hope your business goes well.”

“As do I. Goodnight Sansa.”

***

The way her name sounded, spoken in his voice, Sansa almost shivered with delight. She’d felt the heat of his touch, even though he’d not even made contact with her bare skin, save for that kiss.

The fact that he’d been practically naked from the waist up hadn’t done him any disservice. After all, she’d intruded on his evening, not the other way around.

When he’d leaned close and put a hand to her knee, she’d almost swooned. The urge to touch his hair, just to run her hands through it, preferably while he was kissing her, on the mouth, not the hand, was overwhelming.

Only years of etiquette training kept her sane. What was it about him that was just so magnetizing? She’d never dated much throughout high school or college. She’d been deeply in love with the school jock, and even gone to prom with him, only to be ditched midway through the dance for an older, blonder, and haughtier girl.

Since that betrayal, she’d stayed away from boys, or men. In return for her focus on her studies, she’d finished early, and Petyr had been right. She was proud of herself, and she wasn’t afraid to say it. However, she’d never had anyone build her up like he had. She was sure she’d been as bright as her hair while he’d spoken to her. He had no reason to lie to her about anything, and he’d even admitted he was dangerous. What nonsense.

She couldn’t see him really being a criminal or mob boss like people said. There were background checks performed before one could rent an apartment after all.

Unless he had really good connections…

No. She refused to think that about him.

She was almost giddy about the thought of having dinner with him. She’d nearly jumped up and down when he mentioned them talking again, and was grateful for the fact he’d let her go.

Now she _could_ jump around in glee.

She sighed and looked at her bedside clock, too early for bed, but too late for a call to her sister. A glance towards her computer was all it took, and she found herself lost in the web. It was an easy way to spend time. It also wouldn’t hurt to do some research on her neighbor, and see just what was out there about him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all for so many kind words! i hope you enjoy this update.


	4. Chapter 4

Petyr made a quick phone call to Varys, and in not so many words inquired about his neighbor.

“Have you got a little bird watching me? Are they that paranoid I’m really the betrayer?”

Varys chuckled on the other end of the line, and Petyr felt his temples begin to ache. If this was a laughing matter, why didn’t he feel the same mirth?

“Mr. Baelish, I assure you, I have not placed any of my…associates that close to you. That would be foolish on my part, and a waste of resources. They already know where you live, and they monitor your every move. Far more dangerous criminals are still out there, unfettered.”

Petyr snorted,

“Am I supposed to take that as a compliment? Rather it makes me sound like I am a dog in chains, to be let out when needed to guard the estate.”

Varys sighed,

“Perhaps that is how they feel. But trust me, if they decide to dig any further into your at home life, your time off the clock as it were, I will let you know.”

Petyr coughed,

“As if I could really trust you.”

“Indeed.”

“Very well. I don’t suppose you could do a background check on her anyway? In case she’s actually an assassin?”

Varys sounded curious,

“Just a background check for safety reasons?”

Petyr smiled grimly; glad for once to be over the phone with his co-worker,

“Yes.”

“It will be done.”

Petyr stopped him from hanging up,

“I want the results delivered by hand. No more mistakes in the mail system.”

Varys’ voice suddenly went cold,

“Of course. Whoever was responsible for that oversight will be…taken care of at once.”

“Good day.”

“Good day.”

He hung up feeling less sure of their relationship. If Varys hadn’t been the one who’d mucked up the letter and Sansa wasn’t a spy, what on earth was she?

Besides total and absolute trouble.

***

Petyr knew if he was to spend any time with Sansa, he could not risk being seen with her in public. For both their sakes. It had only been a couple days, and Varys had still not gotten all the results of her background check done and sent to him, but he hoped it wouldn’t take long. He already craved the sight of the girl, if only because he’d not had a true friendship, or more, with anyone in many years.

He snorted. As if he was just interested in being friends with her. Friends were possibly more dangerous to a man like him than a lover. Friends learned your secrets, they knew your weaknesses, and sometimes they even became your enemies.

He would not have that happen to him again.

He would invite her over for a nice dinner, and slip something into her drink if necessary. Depending on what her background check revealed, he might even need to provide her last meal. He rather hoped not. She was much too pretty to die before he’d even gotten to kiss those delicious lips of hers.

***

The hand that held the opened manila envelope shook slightly, and Petyr scrabbled for a seat with his other hand.

The words that read across the page had shocked Petyr, and they’d also explained a few things. The reason he felt so strongly for Sansa, and the reason she seemed so familiar, despite not knowing Varys, or anyone in the Company.

“Caitlyn Tully, Mother. Edward Stark, Father.”

He checked it again, and the words were still there, clear as day. Petyr sighed and dropped the pages, letting them fall to the floor in a rustle.

“Oh my sweet girl.”

He stayed still only for a few moments, before getting back up, feeling steadier, and with a singular goal in mind. He needed to talk to Sansa, invite her to dinner, and tell her the truth. The longer he hid what he knew, the angrier she would be if she found out first.

Not that he cared, but if she screamed, there would be dozens of witnesses to the sound.

Since he couldn’t call her, he merely stepped outside and crossed the hallway to knock on her door.

***

Sansa had only just stepped out of the shower, and was feeling quite flushed, due to the hot water and steam. She heard a faint knocking, and fought the urge to roll her eyes. Who on earth?

She pulled on a robe and toweled frantically at her hair as she hurried to answer.

A brief glance in the peephole revealed nothing.

She yanked open the door and gasped aloud at the sight of Petyr, clad in his usual splendor, wearing neatly pressed khakis and an olive green silk shirt.

“He-hello.”

His eyes sparkled, but his mouth stayed the usually thin firm line before his lips parted,

“Sansa. Good afternoon. Forgive me for stealing you away from your shower.”

His eyes seemed to devour her entirely, and Sansa was sure if she’d not already been hot she’d have been beet red.

Her hair was sticking to her skin, not merely because it was wet.

“No, uh, I’d just finished.”

Petyr finally smiled at this,

“Oh? Well then I had good timing it seems.”

Sansa shrugged,

“Sure. So what’s up? Did you get some of my mail?”

She was on the verge of a nervous giggle, but his gaze stopped her short,

“No. Sansa, I had no way to contact you, other than this, so I merely came by to invite you to dine with me tomorrow evening.”

“Oh! Yes. Of course. I’d love to. What time should I come over?”

Petyr’s hands came up to his chest, and he folded them together,

“I think about eight o’clock would be good.”

Sansa nodded eagerly,

“Okay. I’ll see you then.”

Petyr gave a small smile,

“Wonderful. Good day then.”

Sansa stepped back and watched him leave before closing the door with a snap. She leaned against the shut door for a few moments, catching her breath, and letting her racing thoughts slow down.

“Ohmygod.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> stole/borrowed/whatever you want to think/ *that line* from Labyrinth.

Sansa picked out a steel blue dress, made of shimmering silk, which brought out her eyes, for her dinner date with Petyr. She knew there was a strong chance that she would be overdressed, but she was going by how he usually dressed.

She fussed and primped longer than usual, and pinned her hair up and back from her face, letting the waves fall off her left shoulder, and she kept her jewelry to a minimum.

She slipped on black pump heels and stood back from her mirror, checking herself from every angle.

“Now or never.”

She muttered to herself, before snatching up her keys and heading across the hall.

She had barely lifted a hand to knock when the door swung inward, and Petyr’s grey-green eyes were piercing through her.

“Good evening Sansa. Please, come in. You look stunning.”

Sansa licked her lips, and nervously did as she was bid. The truth was she felt her knees wobbling beneath her, and she suddenly wished she’d worn flat shoes.

Petyr himself looked as handsome as always, but he’d chosen to wear a suit without a tie, and his hair was immobile and styled to perfection.

She felt his hand at the small of her back, and hoped she didn’t shiver on the outside as the warmth of his skin seeped through the fine fabric.

“I’m sorry, I should have asked if I could bring anything.”

Petyr shook his head,

“No need. I’ve prepared everything we could want. Dinner is ready. What would you like to drink?”

Sansa swallowed on a dry throat,

“I think a glass of wine would be nice.”

Petyr smirked,

“Red or white?”

Sansa giggled,

“What are we having for dinner?”

“Roasted chicken breast.”

“I’ll have white wine then please.”

Petyr nodded approvingly,

“Very good.”

He’d poured their wine and they’d been sitting quietly for a few moments before Petyr broke the silence.

“How did you find such a bewitching dress? It’s the exact shade of your eyes, and sets off your hair magnificently. I don’t think any man could deny you if you always look like that.”

Despite being alone with him, and on a date with him, Sansa was shy. She knew she’d been told how she looked. But she still couldn’t help thinking he was exaggerating.

“Oh? Well I don’t want anything except to know the truth about you. I’ve heard so many things, I don’t know what to believe.”

Sansa eyed him carefully, and she saw his jaw tense, before he took a measured sip of wine.

Either she made him nervous, or the question did.

She wasn’t sure which was more surprising.

***

Petyr’s mind raced, and he took a deep breath. This was it. The moment he would show his hand. She’d either run away from him, or she’d never leave.

“What they say is correct but the details are lacking.”

Sansa’s blue eyes went wide, and he fought the urge to lie, if only to comfort her.

“You’re a murderer?”

Petyr shrugged,

“Some people deserve to die Sansa. I won’t deny that. I did tell you, I’m a dangerous man. I work for powerful people. I wouldn’t have let you into my home if I couldn’t trust you. I can trust you, can’t I?”

Sansa swallowed, and he could see every single move of the muscles of her throat. His shoulders tensed, and he felt himself ache with need.

Her voice was timid, and barely audible,

“Yes.”

“Then let me tell you something else. I know you. More than I thought I did. I knew your mother once. Back when we were teenagers. I even thought I loved her. Until she met your father, and was swept away from me, lost to the splendor and sort of life he could provide her.”

Sansa suddenly rose to her feet, and Petyr might have been intimidated, but he knew she was unarmed.

She could not hurt him.

But she didn’t have to. The look on her face said it all.

“You what?”

He smiled tightly,

“I did not know who you were until I learned of your parentage.” But how could he not know her? Every feature she possessed screamed of Cat.

The cobalt eyes that stared at him with such focus, the fiery red of her hair, and the pale skin dotted with the occasional freckle, like cream spotted with cinnamon.

Yet, she was so much more beautiful than Cat could have ever dreamed of being.

It was painful to sit there and refrain from touching her.

Luckily, or unluckily, she saved him from his fate. She moved around the table in an instant and her hand lifted to slap him across his face.

The sting of the slap brought him completely out of his thoughts, and the ringing in his ears only made him grin the wider.

She swung her hand back around as if to hit him again, but this time he was ready. His hand shot up and grabbed her wrist, holding her tightly to him, and his free hand snaked around her waist, until she was practically falling into his lap, and had no further leverage to hurt him.

“I swear to you, I meant you no harm.”

Her eyes swam with tears,

“You lied to me.”

“Never.” He breathed, and before she could protest, he’d closed the distance between them and captured her lips in a fierce kiss. Hunger like he’d only known for her mother burst forth and bloomed in his chest, and even though his lungs burned from lack of air, he didn’t stop kissing her, not until she’d begun to squirm in his arms, and the motion brought her hips dangerously close to his burgeoning erection.

He’d hoped to maintain control of himself, and treat her to at least one more evening of chatter before letting the needs of the physical guide their time together.

It seemed that it was not meant to be.

“Why are you doing this?”

She’d pulled away from his embrace and was staring at him with a horror filled gaze, even though the last thing he dreamed of doing was killing her.

How foolish he’d been to think that had been even an option.

“I want you. Not your mother, not some silly dream of a boy. I want _you._ I only ask one thing of you.”  
Sansa’s upper lip wobbled, and he tried not to focus on her mouth at all. Her lips were swollen, and he was sure he’d kissed off all her lipstick, so the redness was not from any cosmetic.

It was all him.

“What do you want?”

Petyr loosened his grip on her, only slightly,

“Just fear me, love me, do as I say and I will be your slave.”

The small wrinkles that formed between her eyebrows were begging to be kissed into submission, so he did that.

He kissed her everywhere, gently and with staggering patience, until he felt her relax in his arms.

“Okay.”

She spoke so softly he was sure he’d imagined it, until she began to stand up, and her fingers laced themselves together with his.

She was walking him to his own bedroom. How had she known?

Dinner was left abandoned on the table, and all Petyr was starved for now was Sansa’s bare skin beneath his own.

He only frightened her one more time, when he pulled out his beautifully handled knife, only to cut away her dress.

She’d protested.

“But I thought you said I looked pretty in it.”

A mock pout had graced her mouth, and he’d grinned wickedly at her,

“Yes sweetling. You looked ravishing. But I will not have any other man see you looking so fine. He might get an idea in his head that you could belong to him.”

Sansa couldn’t seem to think of a thing to say, to argue his point, and so she relented, and helped him discard the tattered dress.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally a much darker scene in my head, hence the dub-con tag, and it could still come off that way, so i will leave it tagged as such.

The air in Petyr’s bedroom wasn’t that chilly, but now that her skin was exposed, Sansa felt cold. She’d been flushed with anger at first, hearing what he’d said about her mother, and she’d attempted to fight him, and prove the rumors right.

That he was quick to kill and slow to forgive. But they were wrong.

At least when it came to her.

She’d flushed again for an entirely different reason when he’d cut away her dress and left her in only a plain black underwear set.

Her nipples hardened to twin points beneath the black fabric of her bra, and she tried to blame it on the cold, but that was a lie.

The heat of his stare on her was enough to set her aflame, and she could only tug fruitlessly at his shirt, silently begging him to undress.

He brushed her hands away and swiftly pulled his shirt off, and her mouth fell open in a gasp. Not from the sight of his naked chest, but from what was revealed _on_ his chest.

A ragged silvery pink scar traveled from below his navel almost up past his heart, tapering off just below his collarbone.

Petyr sighed and shrugged his shoulders, muscles rippling as he did so.

“It’s a long sad story for another night sweetling.”

Sansa’s eyes snapped back up to his face, and she was stunned to see the amount of lust in his own gaze.

“Okay.” She breathed out, and when he shucked his pants and she saw he’d gone commando, her blush returned in force.

“Ohmygod.”

Petyr’s arms slipped around her and he drew her in close for another searing kiss, before pulling back to buck his hips against her, hot bare skin grazing her own through a thin veiling of fabric.

It was utterly obscene and she loved it.

“You see now, how much I need you? To think you didn’t believe me.”

“It’s not that I didn’t believe you…”

“Ah, ah, ah. Don’t lie. You’re on the verge of fucking the king of liars.”

Sansa shivered in his grasp and she could feel his hands slipping down to remove her undies.

“Maybe. A little.”

“Good.”

Deft hands unsnapped her bra, and she was left completely naked on his bed, under his comforting weight, with her hair still clipped back and his own in perfect form.

Her hands rose up to tangle in the short locks and deliberately undo the exact part and she felt his laughter vibrate throughout his chest.

“Something the matter?”

“I hate how perfect it looks. You’re much more handsome this way.”

Petyr kissed and nipped at her neck, probably leaving marks that she would need to disguise in the morning, and he hummed against her skin,

“Then I suppose I should thank you. Now what about you?”

Curious fingers wove through her hair, and she felt the bobby pins slip free.

“What about me?”

“You look much better disheveled as well sweetling.”

Sansa flushed again, and when he thrust against her, his hard flesh brushed right over her aching core,

“What is that, why do you keep calling me that?”

He growled against her skin, lips moving to tease and suck on a nipple, while his hand kneaded the other breast.

He relinquished it with a slight pop, and smirked at her,

“It’s how I think of you. A sweet little morsling, just waiting to be plucked and pleased.”

Sansa arched up into him and ground herself against him, suddenly uncaring about anything other than letting him do just that. She wanted to be pleased.

She wasn’t a virgin, so he could forget about the plucking.

“Please. Take me.”

She found herself murmuring, and Petyr might have spoken, but when his thumb brushed across her throbbing clit, and his hard cock thrust into her aching core, she lost all ability to think coherently.

Her hands were fisted against the sheets, but when he began to move, and his erratic rhythm seemed to match her heartbeat, she moved her hands to embrace him, and her fingers tensed on his bare back.

She was afraid to hurt him, but her nails dug into his skin anyway, and when he thrust another time, the tip of his cock edging right over the spot that made her see stars, she was gone. Lost into the white haze of orgasm, still uncaring whether he followed or not.

The truth was, he did not. He waited until she’d ridden out her aftershocks and then withdrew to spill himself over her stomach. He had no wish to risk getting her pregnant.

He knew the sort of life he led. It wouldn’t do to put her in excess danger.

Not even her powerful family could protect her from the Company.

***

Sansa awoke in a strange place, and tensed through with fear, before recognizing the warm strength of the arms around her. Lips brushed over her skin as hot breath caressed her skin, and she felt the vibration of his voice before her hearing picked up single words.

“Remember what I said last night.”

Sansa nodded, and turned around so that she was facing him, before her eyes slipped closed and she fell back into a deep sleep.

Petyr knew she’d drifted off before he spoke again,

“You’re always safe with me Sansa.”

***


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided to keep details of Petyr's career vague b/c truthfully, it's never defined to a T on the show. a bit of mystery never hurt anyone...

Despite the many reasons that called to him to stay beside the warm and comforting body of his beautiful neighbor, Petyr knew he needed to return to work. He’d hidden away, stayed off the radar, long enough.

By now the tyrants had been disposed of.

He smiled to himself as he dressed and watched Sansa sleeping.

She looked almost like an angel. It delighted him to know he’d been the one to cause her fall.

He only spared her one final glance before leaving. There was a hand written note on the bedside table, and he knew she would find it easily enough.

A black unmarked car waited for him on the street, and he didn’t bother to look around before climbing inside.

Varys was waiting for him, hands clutching tight to a large manila envelope.

“Good to see you.”

Petyr shrugged,

“Is it? I take it you have news for me. Has Lannister Corp truly been disposed of?”

Varys nodded,

“I trust you’ll find all the details inside. Even I wasn’t informed of everything. I assume you know that there’s quite a lot of damage control to be done.”

Petyr’s nostrils flared, the only sign of his annoyance.

“Yes of course. When a family is involved there usually is.”

“Well, they aren’t _all_ gone.”

Petyr frowned,

“What are you talking about? I thought all witnesses had been eliminated?”

“No. In fact, we had an ally inside. Not just someone who knew them closely, but a member of the board.”

“That’s something you could have mentioned sooner.”

Varys nodded to the folder,

“It’s all in there. There’s a meeting of the new board being set up as we speak. We’re going there now. Did you want to prepare something to say?”

Petyr smiled grimly,

“I think you know me better than that.”

“You’re right. I wrote you something already.”

Varys passed over a small stack of index cards and Petyr fought back a laugh.

They knew each other a bit too well.

 

Sitting across from the youngest stock holder of the near dissolved Lannister Corp, along with the new owners and their hired thugs, Petyr almost felt uncomfortable.

If it wasn’t for the fact that he knew each and every one of their weaknesses, he might have been intimidated.

For instance, the small one had a penchant for whores and had even married one, for a while. The silver haired one had killed her husband, and was having an affair with her guard.

The details didn’t matter to Petyr, all he cared about was the handshake that followed the writing and receiving of a check.

Then he was sliding back inside the black car, and being taken away from the near palatable amount of power that had hung over the room.

Petyr shivered in disgust. He hated coming face to face with anyone who held control over him. The Company might claim him on their taxes, but he was more than just a name on a page.

He was now the head accountant, but it was merely just another rung on the ladder for him.

***

Sansa finally got up when she remembered just what had happened the night before. She’d seemingly lost her mind, and gone and slept with her neighbor.

How embarrassing.

But when she returned home and looked in a mirror, she caught sight of the love bite on her neck, just underneath her ear. It only made her blush in remembrance.

No matter how spur of the moment, how unexpected, she’d liked it a lot. Something about him captured her. The way he’d looked at her. What had he said? ‘Fear him?’ She might have, but she’d been more afraid of herself.

He said he knew her, loved her mother once, and she didn’t quite understand how that had turned into his desire for her. As far as she knew, all her life, she’d never been anything like her mother. Even she’d been told that.

How had she gotten herself into this situation?

Why was her pulse racing at the thought of seeing him again?

She’d wrapped the torn dress around her to cross the hall, but once safely inside, she’d thrown it into the garbage. It was much too far gone. He’d been right anyway. She’d only worn it for him. She wondered if he would insist on taking a knife to anything she wore around him.

The thought thrilled her. The note he’d left her had promised another evening of his company, but he had not said when. His work seemed to be unpredictable, and even if it wasn’t what rumor said about him, she had the feeling it concerned questionable activities.

She shivered as she recalled what he’d told her. ‘Some people deserve to die.’

Where did that line start and stop?

The brief pleasure and giddiness she’d felt at the thought of seeing him again was tapered by her conscience kicking in. What would her family think about her consorting with someone like him? Never mind his age, they’d wouldn’t understand about that anyway. She tried to picture herself being caught in a situation where she was forced to end a life. Tears sprung forth and she squeezed her eyes shut, attempting to shut down the scenario.

It was an impossible thing to consider.

How had he come into that business? Whatever he did, really. Had the scar that she’d seen been the catalyst? Had he been so near death, that it had been his only choice to kill or be killed?

She wasn’t sure she was ready for the answer. He’d said it was a story for another time. Perhaps some stories were better left untold.


	8. Chapter 8

The slamming of the door across the hall woke Sansa from a fitful sleep. She’d not meant to lie down, not really, but halfway through her house cleaning she’d been feeling drowsy. The night’s activities had caught up to her.

A glance outside told her it was long past sundown, and her growling stomach seconded the time. She walked to the kitchen and found only a couple tv dinners in the freezer. The perils of living alone.

No. She frowned. Petyr had made a fantastic dinner for them, and he lived alone. She had no real excuse. Undoing the vacuum seal, she shoved the frozen meal into the microwave.

She sighed as she waited patiently, watching the turntable spin slowly.

A different beeping startled her from her thoughts, and she frowned at the microwave before realizing her cellphone was ringing.

Only three people ever called her. Arya, Jon or Robb.

The screen glowed with Arya’s nickname, Lumpyface and Sansa smiled, before picking up the call.

“Hey sis.”

“Hey! Where on earth have you been? I’ve been calling you for ages.”

Sansa rolled her eyes,

“Can’t a girl take a nap without being missed?”

Arya huffed,

“A nap? You’ve been asleep over 24 hours?”

Sansa pursed her lips,

“Well no. just a couple I think. Do you mean you tried calling last night?”

“Duh!”

“Oh well sorry. I was out.”

“And you forgot your phone? Since when? You never leave the apartment without it. And you shouldn’t. I’m sure dad would tell you that you’ve been foolish.”

Sansa swallowed,

“Yeah he probably would. But I’m fine. So what’s up?”

“Nothing unfortunately. Gendry had to go in to the hospital early. I hate it when he’s on call. I see him once a day until he’s off.”

Sansa grimaced. Arya had been living with her longtime boyfriend since leaving college, and somehow she wasn’t the black sheep of the family. Go figure.

“Well I’m sure you’ll find ways to amuse yourself.”

Arya barked out a laugh,

“Oh yes. I’ve been playing his latest game, and when he gets home, he’ll find an incredible high score to beat.”

Sansa giggled,

“You know he won’t like that.”

“Well tough. That’s what he gets for holding out on me.”

“Ew Arya. I don’t want to know about your sex life.”

“Oh don’t be such a prude. Have you gotten a new man yet?”

Sansa coughed.

“Nope. Still looking for a prince amongst thieves.”

Arya snorted,

“You’re gonna die alone if you keep up that sappy nonsense. Not that you’ll really die without a man. Be a strong woman on your own if you like. Whatever. I just like having a mostly bangable guy around. Plus he cooks.”

Sansa sighed, and didn’t bother arguing,

“Lucky you.”

“Yeah I know. Okay listen I’m glad you’re ok. If mom bugs me again I’ll tell her I caught you. I’ve gotta finish this level before my show comes on. Stay hip.”

Sansa frowned.

“Do people say that? Where did you hear that word?”

“I don’t remember. Probably in the Breakfast club or something. Bye!”

The line clicked off before Sansa could reply, and she practically threw the phone away.

What she wouldn’t give to be as carefree as Arya. She almost wondered what she would do if she was in her sisters shoes.

Despite Arya’s big talk on making strides alone, she was completely besotted with Gendry. Not that she’d ever admit it.

Sansa had known them both long enough to see the love they had for each other. It was the sort of stuff one could read only in books.

She’d used to think she wanted the same thing. But there was nothing exciting about a college sweetheart. Not to her at least.

When her cellphone chimed again the next morning, she ignored it. She wasn’t in the mood. She was content to wallow in her own self pity for another day.

***

It had been an unpredictably simple matter to obtain Sansa Stark’s cellphone number. She didn’t possess a landline, but that didn’t surprise him. Most people her age didn’t.

Petyr grimaced at the sound of her voicemail message for the third time in a row. Either she didn’t answer numbers she didn’t know, or her phone was off.

He wasn’t going to waste time leaving a message.

By the time he had gotten home from work, it was long past a decent hour to knock on her door and ask her how she was, so he’d called Varys and had him hack into her phone records.

The twinge of guilt that flashed across his mind was almost imperceptible.

Only later did he realize what it meant. That perhaps he’d been wrong about the entire thing. He’d not caused her to fall. She’d pulled him off his self created pedestal. Where he thought he could remain untouched and unfettered by anything resembling weakness.

Maybe desire wasn’t a flaw. Maybe it was the spark to forging something permanent.

He had a fleeting thought that with her beauty, and his skills, they could conquer the world. He didn’t know if she would want that, much less agree to help him, but the image of her at the head of a long table surrounded by powerful people, with him at her side, no longer bound to anyone’s rules but his own appealed to him greatly.

He dialed her number again, and this time, he gave in.

“Sansa. This is Petyr. Call me back within 24 hours, or I’m coming over.”

He hung up and smiled to himself.

There was no question in his mind, she would respond promptly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> remember kids, being controlling and threatening isn't sexy. unless your Petyr Baelish, and you're in fanfic.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Second date...

The blinking red light indicating notifications distracted Sansa from her coffee, so she reluctantly rose to retrieve the phone.

It was on its last legs of battery but dutifully informed her of three missed calls, all from the same unknown number, and a solitary voicemail.

She frowned at it, before taking it to the charger located beside the coffee maker. Once she’d plugged it in, she pressed ok to listen to the message.

Her eyes widened as she recognized the voice speaking her name.

She’d only drank a few sips of coffee, so it was not that which set her heart racing.

Shaky hands pressed the call button and she held the phone to her ear once more.

“Hello Sansa. Did you get my message?”

“Yes.”

“I’m glad you called.”

“So am I.”

Sansa felt a nervous giggle creeping up her throat, but she swallowed, desperate to keep it at bay.

“Do you have any plans tonight?”

She shook her head, momentarily losing herself in his voice,

“Nope. Do you?”

“I have a few ideas for something that involves you and me.”

The giggle escaped, and Sansa knew she was blushing. How did he do this to her, without even looking at her or touching her?

His voice was pure sin.

“Yeah?”

“Does that appeal to you?”

“Yeah.”

“Why don’t I pick you up at eight thirty?”

“Okay. What should I wear?”

She held her breath, and was not disappointed.

“Something that has a zipper.”

She exhaled slowly, and tapped her fingers on the kitchen counter,

“Okay. See you later then.”

“Until tonight Sansa.”

The line fell silent, and Sansa sagged against the counter, feeling as if she’d run a marathon.

Forget dangerous, he needed to be locked up and his voice registered as a deadly weapon.

When taken away from the rest of him, it was so potent. Sansa couldn’t remember just how much they’d talked before and after having sex, but it certainly hadn’t been enough. She wanted to listen to him whisper in her ear while he touched her. She secretly hoped they would be going somewhere with a private room. Maybe a movie theater or an opera house?

Once she’d downed the rest of her coffee she set out to hunt in her closet.

Something with a zipper indeed. She could also forgo underwear while she was at it. If she was going to be a bold woman worthy of his attention, she might as well do it all the way.

***

Petyr had no such plans in mind. He did know he was going to borrow the limo he usually required for transport and he could almost hear the smirk in Varys’ voice when he called him.

“Do try to keep the leather clean. It costs a fortune to reupholster.”

Petyr chuckled darkly,

“What kind of man do you think I am? I would never sink so low as to fuck anyone in a car.”

“Oh I don’t know about that. Sometimes things get heated, one gets caught up in the moment, any number of things could happen.”

“Well, I’ll keep that in mind. I appreciate your concern. Just make sure it’s here at a quarter til.”

“Of course.”

He hung up and shook his head. As much as the thought of ravishing Sansa in the back of the dark limo appealed to him, he didn’t wish to risk being seen. Drivers may have been paid to avert their eyes and ignore their ears, but their mouths were that much harder to control.

Petyr phoned in a reservation to the Vale, an exclusive restaurant which was well known for a mouthwatering menu and impeccable service.

He wanted to make Sansa feel like the queen she could be. Besides, he also had plenty to celebrate, and it was more fun to do so with good company.

 

Five minutes before eight, he’d gotten a text alert that the car had arrived, and he exited his apartment, stepping across the hall to knock on Sansa’s door.

The sight that greeted him when the door opened almost took his breath away. She’d done well, so much better than he could have dreamt. She wore a sheath dress, a shade of blue so dark it was almost black, and with a bright silver zipper running up the side.

It only went halfway down, most likely where her ribcage began, but it was perfect. It clung to her curves and possessed only one strap which crossed over her right shoulder. Her long red hair was a loose cascade of waves, and he fought the urge to take a fist full in hand and kiss the peach lipstick off her mouth.

There would be plenty of time for that later on.

“Are you ready to go?”

His voice came out raspy, and he could only blame it on the effect she was having on him.

She nodded, and wordlessly followed him down the hall once the door was secured behind her.

The padding of her shoes caught his attention, and he realized she’d forgone heels. Simple silver slippers encased her feet, and as a result, they were almost the same height. He slipped an arm around her waist and as they approached the car, he paused to open the door for her. He relinquished his hold on her only for as long as it took them to enter the car. Once inside, her hand found his, and he looked over at her, drinking in her image. Her long legs stretched out and crossed as she made herself comfortable. He found himself wondering if she was wearing anything beneath the dress. It was so fitted; he could almost trust that she wasn’t.

“Where are we going?”

She spoke, and his eyes lifted to her own,

“Dinner. I hope you’re hungry.”

She nodded, and he smiled at the eagerness he saw reflected in her gaze. Those bright blue orbs weren’t yet like ice, as her mothers had become. Perhaps they never would be.

“Have I told you how beautiful you look?”

She blushed prettily, and shook her head.

“No. But thank you. I hope you like my dress. I almost forgot I had it. My sister gave it to me for my eighteenth birthday, we were supposed to go out clubbing.”

Petyr’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. He couldn’t picture that, not without effort. He always felt uncomfortable in such crowded spaces, and he imagined she would as well.

“What happened?”

Sansa looked away from him,

“I broke up with my boyfriend that night. So it wasn’t a great night.”

He squeezed her hand, aiming for comfort.

“He was a fool.”

Sansa frowned,

“But I just said-“

“You are not someone who ends things lightly. I’m sure he deserved far worse.”

Sansa seemed to relax slightly,

“Well the truth was I’d caught him cheating. I ended it maybe a few minutes before he would have.” She gave a sad laugh, and he reached over to capture her chin between his thumb and forefinger,

“Don’t ever regret decisions you make. Regret leads to self doubt, and that can poison even the most confident of souls.”

“What if they’re wrong decisions?”

She’d leaned closer, and his grip loosened,

“Who’s to say what’s right or wrong for you?”

Little wrinkles formed between her auburn brows, but then she closed her eyes, and he shifted his grip to cup her cheek, pulling her lips to his.

He’d not wanted to do this, to give in to her so quickly, but he was fighting a losing battle.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I've been gone so long. I lost my grandfather this week so soon after my grandmother passed last week, and it's been rough on me. I hope you guys like the new chapter, thanks for your patience.

Sansa let Petyr lead her to the small dark corner of the room; a table set for two, with the chairs flush together. She didn’t protest the fact there was no space between them. She loved it.

She’d barely gotten a good look around the place, but she could practically smell the money that had gone into the building. Their shoulders brushed as she picked up the menu standing on the table. It felt expensive, and she noticed that even the tablecloth was of nicer material than her dress.

She swallowed, and suddenly felt horribly out of place.

Petyr must have noticed, for in an instant his hand was warm on her thigh, and her eyes snapped to his,

“All right?”

She licked her lips and nodded cautiously. She saw how his green gaze dipped down to her mouth, and a wave of heat washed through her that had nothing to do with his innocent touch. Well, the way his fingers stroked her skin just below her dress might be less than innocent.

“Yeah. I think I just figured out what you do.”

His expression became stony, and his voice was measured,

“Is that so?”

She giggled timidly,

“You’re an assassin. Only they kill people and have boatloads of money.”

She caught sight of a waiter approaching out of the corner of her eye, and she knew that was the only reason he replied as he did,

“Perhaps you’re right.”

 

He ordered a bottle of white wine for them, and Sansa didn’t bother to protest. After all, it wasn’t like she was driving home, or even walking home.

“So tell me, where do you see yourself in five years?”

The question took her by surprise and all she could do was tease a response,

“Is this a job interview?”

He looked at her over his glass of wine, and she sobered at the heat she saw in his stare.

“Um. Okay, well I’d like to have a successful teaching career I suppose.”

He nodded, gesturing for her to continue.

“And maybe have a bit of savings set aside, for a nice vacation somewhere. Somewhere warm and sunny with a nice beach.”

Petyr set his glass down and grinned at her,

“What’s keeping you from doing that sooner than five years from now?”

Sansa shrugged,

“I don’t know. I’m just guessing. I dunno if my teaching position will be something I like after one year. I mean, I love children, but they could drive me mad. Who knows?”

Petyr looked thoughtful.

“Have you ever thought bigger? Perhaps being on the school board? Principal maybe? More than just another pawn?”

Sansa sighed,

“I don’t feel like a pawn. I just don’t know what I want outside work.”

Their food arrived, and interrupted the conversation again.

But when Sansa caught him watching her taking a sip of wine in between bites, she could see a question in his eyes.

“What is it?”

“Am I in your future? Do you think I’ll still be across the hall in five years?”

Sansa swallowed,

“I don’t know. Will you?”

Petyr shook his head,

“I doubt it. I never stay in one place for too long.”

Sansa nodded, trying to understand,

“The life of a spy. Constant danger.”

Petyr looked mildly annoyed,

“I’m not a spy Sansa. I’m not something you can label or fit into a box. I’m also not someone who usually wastes time on relationships and defining them. But I do know one thing, I want you. If you can’t define your future, then there’s every reason for you to come with me. Who’s to say my next home won’t be on the shore of a beach?”

Sansa sat frozen, speechless at the sudden vulnerability she saw on his face. Then, in an instant, like a switch had been thrown, it had vanished, leaving the same stranger still in his chair.

Well, not a total stranger.

“What would I do?”

His lips twitched with a smile,

“You’re a beautiful girl Sansa. You distract men. You drive them mad. You could be very helpful to someone like me.”

A prickle of fear crept down her spine as she considered exactly what he was asking. But at the same time, another part of her knew he was right. She didn’t know what she wanted. She had everything lined up perfectly for her, a job, a home, but one thing was missing. The actual zest for life. She wasn’t sure if she’d gone after the freedom of being on her own because of what it offered, or simply because it wasn’t what her family wanted for her.

“Do I drive you mad?”

She found herself asking him, and when his hand set aside his fork and slipped down to caress her thigh again, that same fire flared up at his touch.

“What do you think?”

His eyes had darkened, and were no longer the bewitching gray green; his pupils had expanded so much they were all she could see. They were dizzying twin black holes that she was on the verge of jumping into.

Her breath caught in her throat and she couldn’t find the strength to speak.

Fingers dug into yielding flesh and he closed the small distance between them to capture her lips in a searing kiss.

She was grateful for the privacy their table offered, but the fact that the waiter could stumble upon them at any moment only heightened the sense of urgency.

She sighed into his mouth, and he took the opportunity to thrust his tongue between her lips, stealing her breath. Despite the wine they’d been drinking, he tasted of mint.

When he finally pulled back, she realized his hands were tangled in her hair, and she bit back a laugh.

“You know what you do to me.”

The words were a harsh whisper, but there was no anger behind them.

Sansa nodded and shifted in her seat, feeling wetness between her thighs.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this.”

“What?”

“Feeling how I do around you.”

Petyr looked amused, and she felt indignant to have to explain it.

“I’ve never really felt such…” she trailed off, the precise term escaping her.

“Lust?”

She blushed, and shook her head,

“Oh no. Not just that. It’s like I might not be able to ever be satisfied, by just a kiss. I want so much more.”

Petyr nodded,

“It’s called yearning. It happens when you go too long without having sex.”

Sansa giggled,

“No. I don’t think so.”

Petyr licked his lips,

“Care to debate the finer points of intimacy with someone who has twice the experience you do?”

Sansa’s eyes widened,

“Uh, I don’t think so?”

He smirked at her,

“I think you might benefit from some lessons.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but fortunately the appearance of their waiter saved her from any further embarrassment.

“I think we’ll take the check.”

Petyr spoke in a commanding tone, and Sansa was astonished that it didn’t intimidate the man.

“Yes sir. Right away.”

“We don’t need dessert do we?”

Petyr pinned her with a stare, one that he had to have practiced to make her knees melt, and she could only shake her head.

Once the waiter was out of earshot, he took hold of her hand again,

“To satisfy my craving for something sweet, I’ve a better idea in mind.”

The rasp of his voice made her shiver and she had a notion that she knew exactly what he was thinking. Her own thoughts jumped to the conclusion, and she wondered how the shadow of his beard would feel on her skin if his face was between her thighs. Would it tickle her or stimulate her? Biting her lip to keep from groaning at the vision, she could only pray he could not read minds.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the delay in posting. stuff happened and things got backed up. been in a bit of a dry spell.  
> this is the final chapter, thank you to all who've commented and read.
> 
>  
> 
> and also it's more smut heyhey.

All night he’d been restraining himself, and when they finally left the car behind and reached his apartment, he wasted no time.

He pushed Sansa up against the wall and ground himself against her, feeling the way her breath caught and seeing the excitement in her eyes.

“I might have bent you over the table right there if I’d had any less control.”

Sansa moaned and worried her bottom lip.

“You aren’t wearing any underwear, are you?”

His hand discovered what he’d guessed the instant she opened her mouth to confirm it, and he shut her up with a kiss.

He thrust two fingers into her wet heat, and devoured the cry that left her throat.

His thumb stroked over her hard bud and he felt her squirm under him.

“Do you like this? Do you like being at my mercy?”

She squeaked as he curled his fingers inside her and continued to pump them in and out. He knew she was getting close, and when she ground herself against his hand he nipped at her neck, and soothed the pain with his tongue.

It was only seconds later that she came undone in his arms and he relished the ragged gasps that escaped her.

“Now take off that dress.”

He moved away from her and brought his fingers to his mouth, sucking her juices off them.

She watched him, open mouthed and clearly still in a daze, so he decided to take back control. He dragged her into his room and threw her towards the bed. She bounced on the mattress before him and he quickly shed his shirt and slacks, impatient to feel her against him.

His long ignored hardness sprung free of his boxers as he kicked them aside, and he saw her eyes widen at the sight.

He pushed her hands aside, his fingers finding the silver zipper and yanking it down unceremoniously. She might have inhaled in shock or desire, but he didn’t care. The dress was peeled away to reveal naked skin, sticky with sweat, and he climbed onto the bed, covering her with his body.

Her hands scrabbled for a hold on him as he kissed and licked his way down her collarbone, pausing only to nip at the skin and leave another mark. He could see the faint outline of the bite he’d left below her ear on that first night and it pleased him to know she’d still have evidence of his claim.

She was panting and writhing under him, and she finally took hold of his aching cock, clever fingers sliding and stroking.

“If you keep that up you won’t be able to have my hard cock in your sweet cunt.”

He growled the words out, wondering if they shocked her, and by the sound of her gasp and the fact she let go of him at once, they had.

“Petyr!”

He hummed against her skin, and shifted down to plant an open mouthed kiss just above the thatch of red curls that hid her hyper sensitive entrance.

Her hips bucked up and he brought his hands up to force them down.

“Let me ensure you’re wet enough.”

The first taste of her hadn’t been nearly as potent as the source. He knew it was probably the influence of the wine on his mind, but she tasted like the sweet tartness of lemon on his tongue.

He pressed his tongue as far inside her as he could, while his fingers teased her clit and elicited more delightful noises from her mouth. Her hands had found their way into his hair, and the slight scrape of her nails on his scalp only spurred his ministrations further. She was trying to hold his head in place, but he wouldn’t have that. He didn’t want her to come again like this.

She never swore or even spoke a word, but he endeavored to make her.

He pulled away, leaving her whimpering from the incompletion and crawled back up to brush his hardness over her warmth.

“What do you think hmm? Are you ready for me?”

She was nearly sobbing as he finally thrust inside her, and he simply murmured in her ear all the things he would do to her, to help her see just why he wanted her.

When she clenched around him, and he felt her orgasm wash over her, he finally let himself go, and gripped her hips tight enough to bruise as he came.

His hands wove through her messy red waves, brushing the sweat soaked strands out of her face, and the look he saw on her face was heart stopping.

He shifted off of her, and lay beside her, willing himself not to think too hard.

“Petyr?”

He inhaled deeply, and then exhaled slowly before replying,

“Yes?”

“I’d like to go with you.”

He turned over and propped himself up on his elbow, stroking her arm with a lazy finger.

“Oh?”

“Yeah.” She bit her bottom lip, and then smiled shakily at him,

“I don’t think teaching will be near as much fun without you as my neighbor.”

A laugh shook through his chest, and she grinned more confidently at him.

“Is that so sweetling? You’d like to follow me around the world, because it’d be fun?”

“Maybe.”

He took a lock of her hair between his thumb and forefinger, and rubbed it thoughtfully.

“What about your family?”

“I don’t know.”

“I don’t want to add kidnapping to the long list of rumors against me.”

Sansa shook her head,

“I’d never let them think that. I could leave a note. Or just tell them the facts.”

Petyr sighed,

“I think you need more time to think about it. It’s never good to make snap decisions after sex.”

Sansa frowned, and then sat up straighter. Her fierce expression was somewhat diminished by her nudity.

“I think I’m old enough to know what I want. Or what I don’t want.”

Petyr simply sighed,

“I don’t suppose I can scare you off?”

Sansa leaned over him and planted a kiss just to the left of his mouth, and he tried to chase her lips, but she pulled back.

“No. But I think I’m ready to hear about this.”

Her hand traced over his bare chest, and he felt her fingers follow the line of his scar.

“It happened as a result of my carelessness. I trusted someone I shouldn’t have, and as a result, went out without any protection, beyond a gun and my knife. I was attacked, and they stole my knife away, and before I could shoot them, they’d stabbed me. Luckily I attracted the right sort of attention with the gunshot, and got to a hospital in time. But I wouldn’t recommend walking down a dark alley to anyone now.”

A wry smile formed on his lips, and he could see the shock in Sansa’s eyes. He knew the scar looked worse than it was, but it hadn’t been deep. If it had, if help had been any later, he would be dead.

“I’m sorry.”

“Whatever for?”

“I shouldn’t…I don’t know. I knew you were brave. I just didn’t know by how much.”

“Ah. Well don’t fret for me. I’ve long since learned my lesson.” He reached up to stroke her temple, and she nuzzled into his touch. Like a cat. Cat.

His hand stiffened, and fell away from her.

She was still the ghost of a memory. The worst possible choice he could make. Choosing to care for her.

She noticed, and frowned in concern.

“What’s wrong?”

He closed his eyes briefly and looked back up at her,

“Just tired I think. If you’d like to stay you’re welcome.”

Sansa smiled at him,

“That’s good. I don’t like having to make the walk of shame this early.”

She settled down inside his arms, and snuggled close to his chest.

“Will you be leaving in the morning?”

He couldn’t lie to her.

“Yes. I’ve got to arrange things for my new position, and the new location they’ll assign me.”

Sansa’s hand drew mindless shapes on his skin and he stopped it with his own.

“What about me?”

“You?”

“I meant it. I want to come with you.”

“I’ll keep in touch. You can always come see me.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“That’s my girl.”

***

Sansa Stark returned to her apartment only to pack a few things, before making a phone call to her sister, and then leaving the phone behind.

The freedom that she once had was renewed, and she was going to chase after it with a full heart and open mind.

She shed her name that day, and took up a new one, as easily as a snake shedding their skin.

It was a simple matter to create a new identity with Petyr’s help, and he couldn’t put it into words how proud he was of her choice.

Things might not be predictable and easy, but she knew she’d be safe with him, if only from the dangers of his world. But the rest of it, the mystery and the rumors, she looked forward to becoming part of them at his side.

After all, rumors always had some truth to them.

***

**END**

 

 

 


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